What'll it be?
by Tokyo Sunset
Summary: The life story of a lonely man, as seen by a waitress.


**A/N: **A product of London, my father's tablet and boredom.

* * *

Lucy Steel was always a kind soul, willing to help. Growing up in the small town of Adelaide, she found that the only way a person could get by, was to rely on the people around. She was not the kind to rely on anybody, though. She was the one people would rely on. Her good looks and charm far outmatched her wit, but if anything, this only made it easier for people to connect with her. She was considered a friend, a companion, a saviour offering quick escape from their troubles, offering a smile and hot coffee.

Waitressing was not an easy trade. It did not require much thinking, or physical labour. It required something else, something that could not be scaled or presented. Compassion. Whoever walked into that small, eliptic diner west of town, expected to walk out of it a happier man. All those blokes had to do was share one word with cheery Lucy Steel, and their troubles would melt away like butter on a warm, summer day. She considered herself less of a waitress, and more of a consultant.

But for one to be a consultant, one had to consult others. This was impossible when the person in question wished not to reciprocate Lucy's efforts put into making conversation.

It was a damp, summer evening of 1946. Sixteen-year-old Lucy was cleaning the counter with a moist, checkered cloth, that seemed to spread the stains rather than to clean them. The fan above her spun in slow circles, releasing whooshing noise but no fresh air currents from its long, wooden flaps. Lucy wiped off some sweat dripping down her forehead. She forced herself to smile, reminding herself that she had to pull through the night shift. A customer could come in at any minute, and nothing said bad business like a grumpy face at the counter.

Especially if the customer has already got a grumpy face at the door.

With that infallible logic, she returned to cleaning the counter, listening to the soft, unrecognizable tune coming from the radio, and the _wash-wash-wash _of the ceiling fan. It was familiar, it was a trick to make her think that time went on, a ruse. It was a melody of the repetitive diner blues.

Reflexively she stretched her mouth into a wide, beaming grin as she heard the bell chime. A gush of warm air went inside, along with a young boy. Lucy looked at the boy briefly, standing up straight and spreading her arms out, to emphasize the emptiness of the small room.

"Welcome, come in! What'll it be?" She asked loudly, in her unusually high-pitched tone, that made the young boy cringe just a bit.

The boy was quite tall, but incredibly lanky, and he gave out his juvenility straight down to his unruly locks of hair. His thick mane, as would be the most suitable word to describe the mess on his head, was cut into halves on each side by the black frames od his spectacles. The lenses of his glasses were as thick as the glass at the bottom of a soda bottle, and they made him look bug-eyed, as he stared at the waitress nervously. His skin was quite pale by Australian standards, apart from the few red blemishes around his chin. He held himself clumsily, letting his long arms fall on each side like strands of overcooked pasta. On top of all that, he was slouching, as though he were embarrassed of his height. Lucy guessed that the boy was about twelve years old. Her speculations were confirmed as he spoke, first in a normal tone, but then transcending into a squeak.

"Just one SODA, please," he said, covering his mouth and making his way to the booth at the end. Lucy didn't want to point out that those were reserved for parties of four. No party of four would be coming there.

She opened a small refrigirator behind her and took one cold bottle of Coke, icy-cold dew dripping down her hand. In two steps, she made her way towards the young boy, already sitting down on the red, leather sofa. She presented the bottle to him with a smile. He gave her the money for it, all in nickles.

The boy sat there, alone, constantly looking at the clock on the wall. Lucy doodled some love hearts into her notebook she used for taking orders. It had been empty as of late. She would look at the boy from time to time, drinking the soda in small, patient sips. She colored in a heart she drew, filling it in with blue ink.

"Waiting for someone?" She asked.

The boy shook his head, locks of unkempt hair flying over his face. After a little over an hour, he left.

One day later, he came back and asked for a coke. Lucy presented it to him, a smile and all, but this time, it was an odd smile, and an insincere one. What was this boy doing?

He came back almost every other day. He ordered a soda, sat around for an hour, not saying a word, and then left. Lucy did not want to care this much about him. She did not want to interfere. But what the mind wants and what it needs were two completely different things. And after over three months of the boy's visits, she needed to say something to him.

"One soda, please," he said, not even looking at her as he made his way towards the booth. She clicked her tongue and pressed her wrist against her hip. She then said something that stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Outta soda, love."

The boy ticked his eyebrow upwards. He looked at the girl with an irritated expression.

"What, all of it?"

Lucy nodded.

"Sorry, kid."

The boy stood in place, unwilling to speak. He turned towards the glass door, looking briefly at his reflection. It disgusted him. Lucy noticed him squinting at the glass and turned towards the cabinets behind the large marble counter. She felt somewhat bad for lyingnto the kid, but, she mused, she did have a good enough of a reason for it.

But before she could say anything, the boy's eyes shot at the pot of brown liquid she grabbed firmly. She noticed his gaze and raised up the plastic pot ever so slightly, just to inspect its fragrant contents.

"Can-" The boy cleared his throat into his chest. "Can Oi have some of that?"

"What, coffee?" She gestured towards the liquid with a jerk of her head, the motion left the liquid swishing inside the container. The caffeinated goodness displayed an aura of red and orange, illuminated by the neon signs scattered around the walls. The boy looked at it, wide-eyed.

_All according to plan..._

"Yeah, Oi mean... Oi can take it."

"Oi don't know, love..." She said as a mischievous smile spread across her lovely face. "This is espresso. It's loike Coffee-zilla."

"Loike Oi said," the boy said, half-closing his eyes as he grinned at her, smugly: " Oi can take iT." The T was said with a sharp smack of his tongue against his pallet.

Lucy shook her head at him, still maintaining her smile. She began looking for a cup.

* * *

"So Oi get home and Oi get another C, this time in math and Oi know that Oi could've done better if Oi wos in me old class but me mum sois that that class of moine left me under-stimulated, but now Oi'm in a class of Einsteins, so Oi'm over-stimulated!"

"Ya don't say..." Lucy said, somewhat amused by the boy's running about and at times incoherant babbling.

"Oi mean, the only subject Oi'm good at is English, and that's just because moi classmates can't pick up a book that doesn't have piles and piles of fractions in 'em and they think Oi'm some sorta genius fer it just because Oi read, Oi mean if they just read the stupid books, just read the damn books, if they just stopped living in their numbers, wot's the Pythagorean theorem if ya can't freaking think!" The boy was slowly getting exhausted by his speech and began to descend on one chair. "But Oi'm getting off topic, all Oi'm saying is that zebras freak me out do you have any more coffee?" He asked, reaching his empty cup towards Lucy. She smiled at him, pot in hand.

"Sure Oi do, love! And you'll get it... when you tell me woi yer comin' here all the toime."

The boy twitched his mouth sideways in confusion.

"Oi... Loike it here?"

"No, ya don't. _Oi_ don' loike it here and Oi'm the peppiest person Oi know. Now, when ya tell me woi yer coming here all the toime, Oi'll give you another cup."

"Are ya even allowed to do that?"

"Probably not," Lucy shrugged. "But being allowed and being forced to are two different things."

The boy alternated between the woman's face and the pot of coffee. Lucy smiled brightly. Coffee could always untie a knotted tongue. Or in this case, lack there of.

"Oi have no choice, do Oi?"

Lucy shook her head. The boy sighed as the girl leaned over to him to hear him more clearly.

"Foine..."

* * *

It all began a year ago. He used to be in a good class, have good friends and whatnot. He was quite happy at the time. However, his teachers weren't. They said that he had too much potential for that class. They considered him an intelligent young man, full of potential to further develop his intelect. He wasn't that smart, not really. He just didn't talk much. At his age, silence was often confused for wisdom. That changed drastically later, when they discovered that his silence was due to the fact that he didn't want to talk that much.

When he got transferred, his former friends stopped contacting him. He failed to make new friends as well. The children in his new class considered him an idiot one minute, and a stuck-up mute the other. Nobody wanted anything to do with him. His parents noticed this.

Every day his mum would ask him if he made any new friends. He would respond honestly. His mother would smile and tell him that everything was going to be alright, though she doubted it. His father said nothing. He couldn't understand how his son could be so anti-social. The boy never managed to make a new friend. For over eight months, he came home and confirmed their doubts. He had no friends. He was alone. His mother smiled and his father said nothing, but behind every smile and steely gaze, there was a sound. It was a sound of dissapointment. It was a sound of misery, deafeningly quiet but everpresent.

One day, he returned home later than usual. He was greeted by his father, sitting on his armchair and staring into the distance. His mother was out, she went to the shops. His father posed a few questions, how school was, how he felt. The last thing he asked was if he had talked to anyone that day.

The boy said nothing. Neither did his father.

He looked through the window, onto the illuminated green grass of their lawn. His father's expression was reflected on the glass. And then the boy saw it. One drop of a broken dream rolling down his father's cheek. It was a silent, painful tear.

His father, the man who prided himself on being strong, unemotional and stern, was crying agonious tears. And his son was the one who made him cry.

The next day, the boy stepped beyond the threshold and waved goodbye to his parents. He said that he was going to see a friend. The almost ecstatic look on their faces was painful to watch. He closed the door behind him.

He walked into this diner and ordered a soda. For an hour he sipped it, thinking of things to say about his friend. he made up his name, his facial characteristics, his family. He went outside after a while and went to the junkyard. There he threw rocks at cans, ran around and tried to do everything that might suggest that he had been out, playing. When he returned home, his parents had never looked happier. They listened to him speak of his new friend, soaking up every lie. When the boy went to bed that night, he was nauseous with guilt. He continued to go out, alone. He only wanted to keep his parents happy and proud. Id they were happy, he was supposed to be happy as well.

"But I'm not..."

The story almost broke Lucy's heart in two.

"Sweetie..." she started, wiping a tear under he eye. "I... I didn't know..."

"It's fine." The boy shrugged. Lucy remained quiet for a moment, looking at her lap as she sat next to the boy. She suddenly had a moment of pure clarity.

"No." She rubbed her eyes and placed his hands into hers. "No, it's not fine. Sweetie, you can't keep lying to their parents, they'll be devastated if they find out! And they _will _find out!"

"Oi know, but... Wot am Oi supposed to do?" He asked, defensively. Lucy tightened her grip on him.

"You need to start making friends, you need friends!"

"Why?"

Lucy backed away, considering the question. What kind of person would not understand the point of having friends? She narrowed her eyes and sighed.

"Because of this. You need to talk to people. It's... Liberating. You need someone you enjoy spending toime with, otherwise... You can... Lose it."

She looked at the boy for a second, hoping that he understood her. She knew that he did when he looked at her with his latge, blue eyes.

"You know this is the first time in almost a year that Oi enjoyed talking to somebody? Oi guess..." He gulped. "Oi guess it is noice."

Lucy clasped her hands tightly, bringing them under her chin. "Yes," she said: "Yes, it is. And with a proper friend, it can be loike this all the toime."

The boy nodded.

"You can't keep coming here, love," she said softly. "You can come here alone for another week, but then..." She bit her lip, knowing that the boy would have to come clean. She could imagine the look of horror on his parent's faces. It made her convulse. The boy looked down at the table.

"Why do you care this much, anyway? Ya don't even know me name."

Lucy raised an eyebrow slightly and widened her eyes.

"Okaaaaay... Wot's yer name?"

"Wot's yours?" He responded.

"Oi asked ya first!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too, love!"

The boy narrowed his eyes at the waitress, standing above him and raising her eyebrow condescendingly. The staring contest between the two seemed to last forever, and the boy finally caved in, mostly because he felt uncomfortable around the girl.

"Victor Mundy..." he said slowly, looking at her with a frown. "But only me mum calls me Victor."

The girl's face seemed to soften, she stood straight and unclenched her fists.

"'S alright. Oi loike Mundy. Anyway, moi name is Lucy Steel. But you can call me Lucy. Only me boss calls me Steel, and that's when Oi break something."

The two smiled at each other in understanding.

"And now that Oi know yer name," she started, "Oi have a reason to care."

Mundy nodded his head and looked at the long, red dial on the wall clock. He was supposed to stay here for half an hour. He needed to go home in an hour and a half in order to lie to his parents before curfew.

"Oi still have to be here for a while... Can Oi get somthin' to drink?"

"Sure, love!" She responded with a cheery gleam in her eyes. "What'll it be?"

Mundy gestured at the sleek, swishy liquid inside the coffee pot.

* * *

Mundy came into the diner thrice before the week had passed. The diner was picking up its pace, leaving Lucy to work much more than she wanted. She had just enough time to worry about the boy, that strange little boy that drank coffee At the booth, alone. She was starting to lose hope. It was the last day that he could let his folks back home live in a lie. She could imagine the look of complete devastation on their faces. She gulped and continued serving the customers. She had no time for breaks, not today.

The small bell atop the glass door chimed as Mundy stepped in. She sighed, preparing the pot of sizzling coffee and looking at him standing in front of her. Something was different. His lips were stretched out into a smirk, and behind him stood a short, thin, short-haired boy.

"I like this place!" The boy said, looking around the diner and nodding approvingly. "This is a noice place!"

"Oi told ya! 'Ello, Lucy!" Mundy turned to the waitress, looking at the two with her mouth agape, looking like a fish.

"Who... Who's he, Mundy?"

"Just some bloke Oi met at the junkyard. I wos throwing rocks at some rats when he came and told me that Oi should use flat rocks. Now Oi thought that wos strange because Oi only used round rocks. So Oi told him he's a loon. He told me Oi wos a loon. So he takes a rock and throws it at a rat. He told me he hated rats. Oi told him Oi hated rats. He then told me that Oi should aim fer the eyes, and Oi told him to mind his own business. So then he shrugs and takes a sip of his soda, and Oi asked him if Oi could have some, so he said that Oi could, and Oi-"

Lucy stopped him, aware that he was about to retell the entire conversation. Mundy did seem quite happy, bouncing up and down as he spoke while the boy walked around the diner.

"Is he... a friend?" She asked carefully.

Mundy shrugged and craned his neck at the boy. "Ey!"

"Wot?"

"Are we friends now?" Mundy asked loudly.

"...yep."

"So there ya have it, we're friends," he ended with a smile. Lucy was beaming with pride.

"Wot's his name?" She asked, batting her eyelashes and ignoring the other anxious customers.

The boy shrugged.

"Ey!"

"Yeah?"

"Wot's yer name?"

"Larry!"

"Larry, Oi think," he turned to the waitress.

"Well, any friend of Mundy's gets a free cup of lovely coffee. Come along, Larry!"

So she poured the boys a cup of coffee. She never expected this to turn into a routine. She served the two boys two cups of coffee but they only payed for one. The two shared the same love of exotic animals, and even more exotic ways of killing them. They drank so much coffee that it later began to disgust Mundy, but it dramk it anyway. It became less of a drink and more of a symbol, a symbol of comerodary. Lucy watched the friendship bloom. The two always came in the diner together, pushing each other and joking around. The two of them befriended all the diner workers, as well as the frequent customers.

In their teens, the boys would go on hunting trips. When they returned home, they would stop at the diner first. The two seemed to share an unbreakable bond. But even the hardest, sternest link could easily be broken in two, if enough force was applied to a certain weak spot.

One day, that force appeared, holding Mundy's hand.

She was a red-haired girl. She was abolutely charming.

* * *

"This is Caroline!" Mundy inteoduced the girl to Lucy as Larry sat at the counter. "She's moi girlfriend!"

Lucy looked at the twenty-three-year-old man in front of her. A bit over a decade had flown by in a snap. The once shy young man was now parading his new girlfriend in a way a boy showed off his shiny new toy.

"Hello-ello-ello!" Lucy smiled at him. "Good to see ya, what'll it be?"

"Three coffees, please!" He said, lifting up three of his fingers. His gaze switched from Caroline to Lucy. "Moi two favorite girls together... Oi couldn't be happier!" He beamed, planting a soft kiss on the redhead's lips.

"Well, Carol is a step up from sheep..." Larry said from behind his folded arms. Mundy shot him a defensive look, holding Caroline tightly.

"You bite yer tongue! Caroline is not to be compared to a filthy farm animal. She's unique... beautiful... the sexiest creature Oi've ever layed eyes on..." He spoke softly, nuzzling the girl's nose.

"BAAAAAAH!" Larry responded in a vibrato, chucking out his tongue.

"So..." Mundy turned to Lucy as Caroline tugged at his shirt and bit her lip. Unfortunately it was her upper lip so she ended up looking like a horny piranha. "That'll be three coffees ans a muzzle fer moi friend Larry here." He pointed at the man, giving him a wry smile. "Meanwhile, me and Caroline will be takin' a stroll."

"Yer a wankah, Mundy."

"Sorry, Larry, Oi can't hear you over the sound of me havin' a girlfriend!" He yelled out to him as Caroline giggled.

They exited the diner and left Larry alone at the counter. He sighed angrily.

"Wot's wrong?" Lucy asked, lowering her hand from its wave. Larry propped his elbow up on the counter and exhaled painfully.

"Everything. The guy is smitten wif that girl. He can't even go on hunting trips without dragging her along..."

"Well, she seems alroight ta me..." Lucy suddenly slammed her palms against the counter, frightened about something that she might not have known. The thought of that Caroline doing something to her sweet little Mundy scared her. She opened her eyes wide and stared at Larry, not focusing his gaze on anything in particular.

"Woi?" She asked. "Wot's wrong wif her?"

Larry shrugged. "Nothing. She's perfect. That's the bloody problem. She's beautiful, clever, funny and she makes him so incredibly happy... Oi mean, it's loike he doesn't even need me."

"Of course he needs you! Yer his friend, aren't ya?" Lucy asked with a reassuring smile. "Come on, now. The guy's only got a small crush. There's no reason to be jealous of him."

Larry snapped up in his seat.

"Jealous?! Oi'm not jealous! Oi'm just mad, ya know... What if he ditches me?"

Lucy stood back and twitched her mouth to the side in confusion.

"_Ditches you?" _She cackled. "No." She waved her hand and shook her head, trying to throw away even the slightest possibility of that happening. "Mundy ain't the type to that."

"Oi bloody well hope so." He watched the outside world peering through the glass door with narrowed eyes. He grumbled under his breath.

"Off fer a walk, my arse. They're probably shagging in the van."

Lucy gulped upon hearing the word. "You, uh... You should just warm up to the girl, that's all."

The man lifted up his shoulders until he heard a satisfying crack. He slowly turned his head just in time to see the two lovebirds, giggling and leaning on each other as they walked through the door. Mundy's shirt was inside-out. Larry looked at his wrist watch. They were only gone for three minutes. That had to be some sort of record.

"Oi'll try..." He said to Lucy, blindly reaching for his cup.

* * *

The three came in the diner quite frequently. Sometimes Larry recieved his free cup of coffee, sometimes the coffee went to Caroline. Mundy and Larry didn't seem to talk much, and when they did, they bickered, often leaving Caroline to split them apart.

Something did change, Lucy noticed. Larry and Caroline were becoming friendlier. Occasionally, Caroline would take his side during the men's arguments. Mundy did not seem to react. Her sudden fervence towards Larry seemed to go unnoticed. About a year into her and Mundy dating, Larry had become less hostile towards her. On occasion, the two would exchange warm glances or a touch under the counter. It was short, almost platonic, but it sent off a certain electric charge that Lucy recognized as pure chemistry.

In short, the perfect little Caroline grew bored of the man she made fall in love with her, and was now considering other options.

One day, Mundy came inside the diner alone, a solemn expression plastered over his face.

"'Ello, Mundy," Lucy said with far less enthusiasm than usually. "What'll it be?"

"One coffee," he said in a hollow tone. Lucy winced.

"Just... Just one?" The man nodded. The waitress shifted the damp cloth in her small hands for a while.

"Oi'm... Oi'm sorry-"

"Don't!" He curtly interrupted her. "Oi don't need yer pity. The Sheila's gone, me best mate took her away from me. Love is dead, friendship is dead, Oi wish Oi were dead. No ammount of sorries can remedy this. End of story."

He slammed his head against the counter, making every person in the diner look at this broken shadow of a man. Lucy remembered the last time the man looked so pathetic. The first day they truly spoke, the day he told her why he was coming here. He lifted his chin up from the smooth surface and growled.

"Where's moi damn coffee?"

He received it quickly. No beverage tasted as bitter.

A full year he had spent with the woman, and all he was left with was a van that they used to drive in. Larry at the wheel, the two of them in the back. It was such a happy time. He always came to the diner alone since that day. Always alone, only Sorrow dragging him by a heavy chain wrapped around his neck. He would sit at the counter, shrowded in its darkness and smoke, drinking the liquid of the foul bean.

Only once did he bring somebody else with him. He had blood on his shirt that day. Lucy didn't ask, she didn't dare to. The man he brought was a jittery young fool, a fool Lucy found extremely endearing and quite charming. Mundy would later describe him as a man he picked up off a bridge, after he had tried to kill himself.

Lucy thought he was joking. Her new husband couldn't have been suicidal.

But was Horatio really the suicidal man Mundy was referring to?

"So whatcha doin' now?" She asked, admiring her new wedding ring of two months. Mundy groaned, drinking his nauseating beverage.

"Oi'm supposed to pick this Sheila up at the airport tomorrow."

"Why?" Lucy asked, puzzled.

"Agh! Some bloke who fixed me old banger decided to ring me up, he needed a favor. Turns out the Sheila is some film school attendant that needs to make a documentary fer her project."

"On wot?" Lucy asked, putting a small glass away on a shelf.

"Me."

"... seriously, now."

"No, Oi mean it! Three weeks of her, filmin' me!"

Lucy clicked her tongue, trying to restrain herself from laughing too hard. With furrowed eyebrows, she posed a question.

"Doin' wot?"

"Oi dunno... Droivin' around?"

"Oi smell an Oscar..." She jeered in a cheery tune.

Mundy huffed, putting out his cigarette inside his coffee. It hissed loudly for a few seconds before the cancer stick became soaked with the brown liquid. With a grunt he stood up and tossed some cash in front of her. She pretended not to see the blood on his hands. He was a doctor, she mused, blood was common. That is, if he really was a doctor.

Eleven years, on the dot. That's how long it has been since he first introduced Caroline. Eleven long, grueling years of self-revulsion and complete loss of hope. Lucy remembered the time she had spent, posing as Mundy's girlfriend during holidays. After all that time, he still wanted to keep his parents happy.

Eleven years... and then he brought her back.

She was a red-haired girl. She was utterly repulsive.

* * *

She ordered plain, black coffee in a tone a high-maintenance person would use in order to come off as a low-maintenance person. She was a cheery, obnoxious, talkative thing. It reminded good old Lucy of herself. It reminded good old Lucy of Caroline.

She knew that this girl was trouble. Trouble for her, trouble for her Mundy.

And another thing she noticed, while the girl was dancing on the counter to an older Stones' song, was that the girl was very young. Then it hit her; the girl was an almost exact replica of Caroline.

"What did you do, Mundy? Raid a high school for this one?" She gestured towards the girl jumping off the counter and running towards a blonde filming her. The words "Australian Adonis" fluttered about thruought their conversation, but Lucy ignored them due to lack of context.

"Oi know she's young, she's in college!"

"Yeah, well..." Lucy tapped her long, acrylic nails against the counter, "Be careful wif her."

"...Whaddya mean?" Mundy asked, arching his eyebrows. The woman shrugged helplessly.

"Oi mean," she sighed before continuing: "Don't let her outta yer sight and don't let yer guard down."

The man tilted his head at the girl chattering in the distance. "Uh-huh..."

"And wot's more..." She grabbed his hand firmly; "Don't fall in love."

Mundy laughed, letting out a small cough as he ridiculed the idea of him ever falling in love again.

"Oi..." He almost managed a sentence, wiping off a tear; "Oi have a bit more self-control than ya'd think."

"Hmmm, Oi dunno... Yer a sucker for blue eyes..."

"AHA!" He shouted and pointed at her with an air of triumph. "Pepper's eyes are green!"

"AHA!" She shouted with equal triumph; "My point exactly."

With rage in his glassy eyes, he stood up and called Pepper over. She hopped towards him.

"Her coffee's free," he commanded.

"Have fun wif Lolita," Lucy said cynically just before he left.

* * *

For three years Mundy didn't come. Lucy knew the girl had gotten him into trouble, but there was no way to know for sure. She spent three years in that diner, hoping, wishing to see her old friend again. He never came. The last words to him were words of ridicule, and that ate her up inside.

It was her last day at the diner. Her last day at her home.

_DING!_

_"_Damn, did place is perfect for a new map!"

"Eye don' know, boyo, Eye still prefer the old ones."

"Well I hate all of them. I just want to leave this wretched place and 'ave something decent to eat."

"Calm down, Slim, Down Under said this was the best place around."

Lucy watched the men enter the diner. One, two, eight of them. They all sat at the counter, putting their weapons on the tiled floor. Lucy did not ask them what those were for. She had seen worse.

And then, a familiar sound put her at ease.

"Ello, Lucy!"

In the crowd, there he was. A bit older, a bit more tired than before, but there he was; her old friend, her old companion. Her eyes watered up.

"Mundy..." She spoke, her voice weak and deeper than usual. The man tilted his brown panama towards her, bidding her a good day. She regained her composure, not wanting to break into tears and hang herself around his neck in front of all these men.

"What'll it be?" She smiled. Mundy bit the inside of his cheek.

"Mmmm... Let's start wif a coffee shall we? Fer each of 'em?" He looked around the room, looking for affirmation. Lucy lowered herself down at his eye level.

"Can any of 'em... Get it fer free?"

This thing of hers, this free coffee was now a code. It stopped having a literal meaning. It actually meant, _Did you fit in alright?_

Mundy nodded with a beaming smile.

Lucy locked the diner long after the cheery group of nine had left. Twenty-eight years of working in this diner had taken its toll. She was slower, less cheerful. After almost three decades of helping others help themselves, it was her turn. Mundy turned out alright, but now... What about her?

As she walked across the pavement she mused, what did the future hold for her?

What did it hold for all of them?

What will she do next?

_What'll it be?_


End file.
